Death, to the First Degree: SuperWhoLock
by Allonsyintheimpalawithsherlock
Summary: When Jane was young, she discovered she had immense powers after a horrible accident. She was shipped off to a prison where her memories were wiped and her emotions electronically controlled. But after the Winchesters come to rescue, it's up to the SuperWhoLock crew to discover her past, no matter how confusing it may be. (UPDATES IRREGULARLY)
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE: AGENTS MORTSLY AND AUSTIN TO THE RESCUE

For the last time, locked up, that is, unbeknownst to her, she would tell the story of the worst mistake in her life to a couple of strangers. Every week, on a Tuesday, they would take her to an interrogation room, and have her tell her story, looking for any subtle changes in it. Eventually, when she didn't lash out anymore, they trusted her with a real person to talk to, and not just a video camera or a web cam.

Normally she wouldn't have minded the interrogation, because it gave her an opportunity for human contact, actually getting to talk to someone other than herself, even though it caused painful memories. But she was not looking forward to today. Once every two years, a man who liked to calm himself the prison warden, would take the prisoners up and interrogate them alone. They never ended well. And to be frank, he is a real jerk.

He didn't look very intimidating. He had a balding head, and a big gut that he always tried to hide. His hair at one point had been an unattractive brown, but now was an almost white. He wore simple brown rectangular glasses, and when he got upset, he took them off, revealing two boring brown colored eyes, and the wrinkles underneath. Today he happened to be wearing an ugly brownish-orange suit from the seventies, which only made his pale skin look paler, if possible.

He refused to show kindness of any kind to anybody. Granted, she was a murderer, but of the accidental kind. So he beat on her, knowing that the cuffs that she was forced to wear concealed her true powers.

The warden, whenever interrogating them, always brought them to a designated room. The room was stark white, with a mirror/window on one side, an uncomfortable chair by the wall, and behind a table, a very comfortable swivel chair. He always had them show up there two to three hours before he even bothered to show up.

But today she walked in an hour later than she normally would have. She noticed that there were too comfortable chairs, not the usual one. _Great, _she thought, _visitors._

She sat in the designated chair and pulled the book out from underneath it that she had stashed her the second time in here, so she and the other prisoners would have something to do while they waited for the warden. But soon she had to put it away, as a few minutes later, to her surprise, the warden and two other men stepped in after him.

"Hello, idiot," the warden said as he stepped into the room.

She knew to nod when he spoke to her, but she wasn't looking to him, she was looking past him, and at the two attractive men that stood behind him.

"Oh, stop staring. This is Agent Mortsly," He gestured to the taller one, "and Agent Austin." He gestured to the other one, who looked around the room. "They're from higher up, and-"

"Sam and Dean…" She whispered, under her breath, but loud enough for the two to hear. They both looked up at her sharply.

"Did you say something?" the warden asked, suspicious of her.

She turned her face away from the group and muttered "No,"

The warden approached her, and put his face down to her level. When he couldn't lean down that far, he forced her head up to meet his eyes by grabbing the roots of her hair. "What was that?"

"Nothing," she replied, louder than before.

"That's what I thought." He slapped her cheek in two short pats, leaving her cheek red, before turning to The Agents. "Don't be afraid to knock her around. She can't hurt you, and besides, she's used to it."

They both looked thoughtful for a moment, but she noticed that anger flashed momentarily in their eyes. The tall one, Agent Mortsly, stepped forward.

"You understand that we _do not _want this interrogation recorded."

"Yeah," the warden laughed, "yeah, I know."

The other one, Austin, stepped up to him, and pulled his gun slightly outside of his coat pocket, just far enough for the warden could see. "Positive?" he growled.

The warden's eyes widened and he nodded nervously. "Yeah-yes, I understand," he left in a hurry after that.

Austen placed his gun back in his pocket. "What a dirt bag." He slumped into one of the swivel and turned to her.

"Agreed." Mortsly sat in the chair and pulled himself up to the table, and turned toward her as well.

"Now," Austen stated, "to start off, how did you know our names?"

"Your names?" she asked.

"Yeah. Sam," he pointed to Mortsly, "And Dean," he pointed to himself.

She sat straight up in her chair and looked them in their eyes. "So you know nothing about me? No background information or anything?"

Austen, or Dean, now, shifted in his seat. "Just tell us."

"From the beginning, then?"

"Sure." Sam said.

"Alright." She settled herself into the chair, trying to make it as comfortable as possible. She leaned her head against the cool wall, closed her eyes, and started to tell her story.

"Twelve years ago, when I was thirteen, I was with my family in the car, on the road in the winter. My older sister had stayed at home with my youngest brother, he was sick. We were on our way home when we were hit by a drunk driver. It caused a humongous pile up, over twenty people slid into each other and died. There were a few people that survived, and I was one of them. But my whole family died in that crash. My sister and brother were alive, of course. My parents were there; my twin, my grandparents and even my closet friend were in there!

"So you could say that I was pretty angry. At first it was pretty scary, being trapped underneath two cars. But eventually the paramedics dug us out, me first, then the rest. I wasn't even hurt. I had a bruised rib from where the seatbelt did its job.

"They told me that my family was dead, and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to explain it, and I still don't, but it felt like this giant ball of power escaped from me, I don't know, but I could feel it expand from my body, and it stretched around me. And when the bubble seemed to reach its limit, _every living thing _had been killed. And the things that weren't alive were burnt black, to a crisp. And you know what? I _still _wasn't dead.

"Eventually the SWAT team came, and took me away from my remaining family. They took me here, and they interrogated me mercilessly. I was treated like a punching bag. It was awful…"

"You're acting really calm about this…"

"Yes."

"Alright," Dean started. "but that doesn't explain how you knew our names,"

"My powers. I can sense things."

"These powers… Can you show us?"

She shook her head and held up her wrists. "These keep me from using them, and you can only take them off with an electronic key code." She settled her hands in her lap and leaned back in her chair. "Which I suppose is a good thing."

"Why's that?" Dean asked.

"Why's what?" was the reply.

"Why is it a good thing to keep your powers locked up?'" He elaborated.

"Because they hurt people. Obviously."

"But how does it control them? Your powers?"

"I don't know exactly. But I know that they choose my emotions. Happy, sad, calm. There's a little screen that shows what emotion I am," she turned the screen on her left wrist toward them. "It says I'm calm right now."

They looked thoughtful for a minute before Dean leaned forward and asked "How long has it been set on calm?"

"Every day for as long as it has been on my wrist."

Sam put his hand up to his ear. "Get that, Tran?" he asked to someone they couldn't see. He nodded a minute later, and so did Dean.

"Now, when we looked in your file, it gave a number under the place of the name. Can you tell us your real name?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"000.000.001." she replied.

"No, like your real one." Dean said, confused.

"000.000.001." She repeated.

"A name isn't a number or anything! It's like John or Sally or Mary or Jane-"

Her breath caught at that. It seemed familiar, like she had heard it before… she felt her heart rate quicken too fast for the bracelet to slow it down.

Dean noticed it and looked her in the eyes "Jane? Is that your name?"

"I-I don't remember," The name suddenly meant nothing to her, and her voice flattened out. She felt the bracelets vibrate slightly, and her heart rate lowered.

"You can't remember? Did they wipe your memories or something?"

"They erased any and all names. I remember that I had a sister; brothers, mom and dad, but I don't remember their names. I remember my house, but I don't remember what street it's on. I remember living, playing, boys, the _sun, _but I don't remember their names or their faces…" she looked distant, as if she was trying to remember something.

Sam suddenly had his hand to his ear, and so did Dean. "You got it?" Dean asked to the air. After a pause, he said, "One minute." He turned to her. "So, uh, 007, uh, our friend wants to know if you want that jewelry turned off."

Almost sleepily, she smiled and nodded.

Sam's hair went to his ear. "It's a go." He listened and turned to her. "He says you might feel a slight pinch…"

She stayed still in her chair, her eyes focused on the watch like item on her wrist, the light from it reflecting on her face. Approximately two seconds later, the light shut off on her watch. The two men watched her reaction carefully.

She drew in a very shaky breath and looked up to the ceiling. She drew another quick breath, and started to hyperventilate. She hugged her arms to her chest and started to rock herself back and forth in the chair. Sam and Dean looked at each other in alarm when large tears started to roll down her face. She put her hand over her heart as if to calm it, but when it didn't immediately work she clenched the fabric of the white shirt.

They both stood and cautiously made their way over to her. Sam once more put his hand up to his ear. "Something's wrong with her-"

Dean interrupted him when he put up his own hand to his ear. "What the HECK did you do?!"

Sam glared at him just before taking a step toward the girl. "You just turned the bracelet off, right? You didn't change the emotion thing?" they both listened for a moment; heads cocked to the side, and started to look nervous. "We have to _comfort _her."

Dean looked at him with an exasperated expression. "I don't know what to do with a crying chick, dude!" He argued. So instead, he put his hands up, his right hand in a fist resting in the flat palm of the other one.

Sam glared at him again but outstretched his hands as well, in the same fashion. They played a quick round of rock-paper-scissors; Dean threw rock, and Sam threw scissors. Sam sighed as he walked over to the girl who was no longer crying, but was no longer, but still clutched at her shirt.

"Uh," Sam kneeled down in front of her. "let's just take off those bracelets," he slowly reached up his hands to her wrist, so he didn't startle her. She looked down at him, and slowly began to unclench her fist from her shirt in jerky movements. "That's good, okay; I'm just going to lock-pick this off your wrist, alright?" She slowly nodded at him, looking much calmer.

He took his lock-pick kit out of his coat pocket and made a move to take it off when a loud voice screamed in his ear, making all of them flinch. The voice was loud enough for her to hear. "Don't take the bracelets off!" It screamed.

"What? Why?" Sam replied to the voice.

"Because if you do, you'll kill her!" She hastily snatched her wrist away. She felt alive again; she didn't want to risk it. "I found an x-ray her! That bracelet is connected to her brain, it's the thing that's blocking off her memories! If she gets too far away from it, the chip in her brain will corrupt, and basically will explode in her brain. And it's not a fast death either… not pretty results…"

Dean held his hand up to his ear and Sam stood up, stepping away from her. "But can we get her out? Like, without the alarms blarin' or anything?"

"Um," she started nervously, standing up from the chair and placing the book on the chair. "If you're, I don't know, theoretically rescuing me, can you, maybe, uh, rescue a friend of mine as well?"

Dean turned to her with a surprised expression and said, "it depends on what he's in for."

She grinned, happy that they didn't say "no" right out, and that he sounded like they might consider it. "He's in here because he's an alien, and he's got two hearts. His number is 000.000.027, cell 27."

"Alien? Like Martian?" Dean asked incredulously.

"He's not from mars." She replied.

Dean turned to Sam, smiling. "Aliens,"

Sam rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. "We've got twenty minutes to nab your friend and get out of here." He gestured to the door. "Lead the way."

Putting on a calm expression as to not seem suspicious, they walked past the guards to return to her cell. Soon they approached a large door labeled in large black figures 1-10. "Open door number one, Kevin," she spoke, knowing that he could hear her.

Within five feet of smashing into the door, it slid up, allowing them to pass through. They walked down the hall and she threw out another command. "Turn off all cameras in this hall and in hall 20-30, and in room numbers 1 and 27, 28, and 29. Open door number one if you don't mind as well, please."

It opened and she walked inside closely followed by the two men. Her walls were covered in multiple colorful finger paintings. Her bed was not made, the sheets in the shape of a noose, hanging from the ceiling. There was a door at the back of the room, presumably to a bathroom. There was a single light on the ceiling, covering the room in a bright white light. On the table was an electronic kindle, which she immediately picked up when she walked into the room.

Dean pushed the makeshift noose out of his face. "What's this?" he asked.

"Plan B." she replied without looking. She was rooting through a drawer in the corner of the room, then abandoned the task and instead released the noose from the ceiling and tugged a pillow case out of it. She returned to the drawer, and pulled out: multiple pairs of paint; spare changes of clothes; a charger; and a pair of clothes.

She stashed them into the pillow case, everything except the shoes, which she put on her bare feet. She picked up the pillow case and carefully threw it over her shoulder and turned to them. "Let's get o' 27."

She walked out the door, leaving them to follow. They exited the same way they came in, and went into the next door labeled 20-30, which Kevin opened without needing to be told. They walked further down the hall, and Kevin opened door 27.

His room was very different from hers. It was painted sky blue with clouds scattered about the walls. In the center of the room was a large tiki bar, with juice boxes instead of alcohol and plastic cups instead of margarita glasses. There was a large plastic bowl containing bananas, and, well, bananas.

As they entered, an excited looking man jumped up from behind the bar, wearing the same boring white clothes as Prisoner One, "Hello! What brings you to my humble abode?"

"They're helping us escape, Doctor! Pack your stuff!"

He did as he was told with a smile, but said, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced." He put the bowl of bananas into his pillowcase, and put a whole drawer full of socks in it as well.

"I'm Sam, this is Dean."

"Yes, thank you, but I was referring to you." He threw the sack over his shoulder.

"I thought you said you that you know this guy!" Dean cried out angrily.

"I do, but he doesn't know me. I'm Prisoner One." She explained

"Oh, good! Introductions for all! I'm the Doctor by the way, hello; will we be rescuing Amy and Rory as well?"

"Yes, Sam, would you go get them? Rooms 28 and 29."

"What are we rescuing the whole compound?" Dean said, outraged, and Sam shrugged, going to fetch them as well.

"Of course not. Jerry is a mean old twit. Nobody likes him much. In reality, we're the only nice murders here," the Doctor flinched at that and looked, for a moment, visibly pained. "Kevin, use the overhead speakers, how many prisoners are there?"

A moment later, a voice answered overhead. "29 prisoners at the moment."

"Thank you, Kevin." She turned to Dean. "See, not all. Four out of 29. It's not even 14 percent."

Sam returned at that moment, followed by two people. One was a women with long, bright red hair, and the other was a man with short lighter hair and a slight goatee. "Doctor!" cried the young women, who flew into the Doctor's open arms.

"Amy! Rory!" He kissed them both excitedly on their foreheads. Amy didn't seem to mind, but Rory looked a little confused by the show of affection.

"Wait, how do you know their names? Wasn't your memory wiped?"

"Nope! We got here three weeks ago, and they were planning to wipe them tomorrow, actually," he turned toward Sam and Dean. "Anyway, we need to find the TARDIS. She'll get us out of here." He turned his head to the ceiling. "If you don't mind, Kevin, can you guide us to the storage units?"

"We don't have time for that! Eight minutes!" Sam shouted.

Amy and Rory snorted and the Doctor smiled smugly. "You should always waste time when you don't have any,"

"Uh, guys, there's about two dozen guards coming your way, and they've got some pretty big guns…" Kevin's voice sounded over the speaker system.

"Aannnnndd, off we go!" the Doctor sped out of the room, closely followed by Amy and Rory, then Prisoner One, then Sam and Dean.

"How do you know this guy?!" Dean yelled to One.

"He came in the TARDIS, which is apparently a 1960 something police box from London, and I guess it's a space ship and a-"

"Take the next left, and then third right, and then the last door on the left." Kevin's voice came from overhead, giving directions but interrupting her. "And the guards are in, but they haven't noticed that you're all missing yet, but I would hurry," he added nervously.

They turned left, following Kevin's Instructions. "Kevin, will you open our storage containers, please?" One shouted as they turned a right. "And the door to it, too,"

"Sure, but the guards know you're missing now, they're looking for you, but they haven't come down the hall yet."

The doors slid open, and they went to their corresponding numbers, opening them up. The Doctor opened his, which was more a room than closet. Inside was his TARDIS, and next to it, a table with his clothes, and a bow tie and a fancy pen looking instrument next to it.

The Doctor cautiously unlocked the doors, looked inside, and gave a large whoop. "They didn't touch her! You sexy thing, not letting them open you up…" he caressed the wood momentarily before grabbing the screw driver and walking over to One.

Amy rolled her eyes at the Doctors brief moment of love and pulled out clothes and a pair of boots, and she sighed happily. "I'm going to go change, Doctor!" and she climbed into the TARDIS.

Rory opened his, and a wallet, keys, and a packet of gum sat there, alongside a letter. Looking confused, he sat there a minute, reading, before looking up in outrage. "They burnt my clothes!" he grabbed the keys, wallet, and gum and ran after Amy, probably to complain about the burning of his clothes.

"Alright, number One, I'm just going to see what I can do about those bracelets and that chip in your head." He brought up the screw driver, gently took a hold of her head, and scanned the fancy looking pen over her eyes and forehead.

"What is that?" Sam stepped forward with a look of curiosity on his face.

"It's a sonic screw driver, it unlocks things. But it doesn't do wood." He explained as he changed the frequencies on it. He reached a low pitched one and smiled. "I can get these bracelets off of you, and disable the chip, without it causing you any harm. You should get your memories back slowly, soon even."

"Can you really?" She asked.

"Guys, they're on their way… They're coming down the hall…" Kevin voice said.

The Doctor hurriedly soniced her arms and both wrist bracelets fell to the ground, and she rubbed them in relief. He repeated the process to her head and she felt something click in her mind, something she couldn't explain to anyone, even if she tried. "Get your things, One, and lets go."

She smiled brightly at him and without even looking at the items she put them in the pillow case, which Dean took from her and put over it over her shoulder. A loud alarm started blaring, and the TARDIS started making whooshing noises. The Doctor exclaimed.

"Everybody inside the TARDIS! The guards must be coming!" he rushed inside, but at that moment, the doors to the room burst open.

"They're getting away!" someone yelled.

Dean ran into the TARDIS, yelling at the two of them to do the same. But as soon as he rushed inside, it disappeared into thin air. Leaving Sam and One stranded. With at least two dozen guards with lots of guns mad at them.

"Now would be a good time for her to get her powers back, Kevin," Sam growled as the guards yelled for them to put their hands up. Sam did, and One followed suit.

"Sam," came the reply, directly to his ear, not overhead. "The chip only controlled her memories, but now that it's been disabled, hopefully'-"

"Hands behind your head!" a guard yelled.

They did, and Kevin continued. "-she'll get them back. But it's the bracelets that controlled her emotions. And they were turned off half an hour ago."

"Agent Mortsly move away from Prisoner One and get on the ground!" the same guard yelled.

"So?!" Sam whispered harshly.

"Sam, her emotions control her powers. She's had them back the whole time."

As they did what the guards said, Sam put the pieces together. "You have your powers back! You need to use them!"

"But I don't think-" she whispered back harshly.

"Do it!"

"But Sam-"

"_DO IT!" _he yelled, and all the guard simultaneously.

She let out a sob and a tear slid down her face. She raised her hand against the guns, and they shouted a warning. She stood up, and they started rapidly firing at them both. After a moment, both same and the other two dozen people grew confused. They weren't falling down dead. Instead, all the bullets were seemingly suspended in air. And it went unnoticed by both of them that a few of the bullets found their mark. But, staying strong, she made a motion with her hands, and the bullets twisted around in the air, turning to the people who had originally fired them out of their guns. And, as if it was a movie, it un-paused, and they were off again, imbedding into the skin and faces of the guards.

And a moment after all 27 of them collapsed to the ground, so did number One, from both shear strain of using her real powers in years, and from the bleeding of all the bullet wounds to her stomach, legs and shoulder. Blood stained her white clothes red as Sam rushed over.


	2. THERE AND BACK AGAIN

CHAPTER TWO: THERE AND BACK AGAIN

She woke to silence. She wasn't sure how, but she did. There were no footsteps, no birds. Next she noticed that she was feeling pain wherever she had been shot, so all over in short. She realized that she was on a bed of sorts, and it was not in the least comfortable. She slowly peeled open her eyes, and they obliged slowly, as if they hadn't been used in a while. The only thing she could see was, ironically, the darkness. She couldn't see anything. But then the smell hit her.

It was awful; It was like death with chemicals on the side. Then she realized that not only was she in the dark, but that she was in a long container, and it was cold. Panicking, she drew in a quick breath and screamed. She clawed at the walls in front of her face, only to discover that they were metal, and wouldn't oblige. Then realizing that she had recently reacquired her abilities, she sent her power out of her body, to see if she could locate where she was.

She had never done this before, but it worked. She discovered that she was in a morgue. _A morgue. _She had been _dead. _She quickly looked past the room, looking for any signs of people. When she found none, she tried to open the latch that sealed her in her cage.

It didn't work. She started to panic again when she heard approaching footsteps, then voices.

"So how did she die?" A man asked, just loud enough to hear, but not enough to recognize it.

"Well, she had quite an amount of lead in her. Five bullets to the chest and stomach region, one to the left shoulder, two in the left shin and one in the right, three in the left thigh and four in the right. One in the lower spinal region as well. An assortment of 17 bullets. It's a miracle itself that she survived long enough for your partner, Agent Hendricks, to bring her in." was the response.

_17 bullets?! I'm going to have quite the arrange of scars, _she thought.

"17 bullets? How is that even possible?" He was obviously feigning surprise.

"Well, another miracle is that none of the of the bullets hit anything vital. Well, the spinal cord, but you can be paralyzed and still live and breathe. If she had lasted through surgery, she would have made it. But cause of death, _severe _blood loss."

There was a pop as somebody released the latch. "How'd she get shot?" light flooded into the tiny room as he asked his question.

"Wrong place at the wrong time, from what I understand." The coroner said as he slid her out from the cold box.

She opened her eyes slightly to establish the situation before she made her escape. The corner was pointing out all the bullet holes, distracted. She looked for the other man, who she found standing on opposite side of her. He was short with bright green eyes- wait! She'd seen this man before! Dean!

She could see that the coroner was still busy, now across the room, so she opened her eyes widely at Dean, and when he noticed, his eyes grew wide as well. She tried to convey a "_Get me out of here!" _look in her eyes, and she succeeded, because Dean mouthed _"How the heck are you still alive?! Never mind, act dead!" _he looked away as the coroner returned, and she closed her eyes.

"Her name is Jane Bennet," _Ah, _she thought, _Sam must have given a fake name._ "Poor girl." He muttered before continuing. "But we've examined her, and if the state doesn't want to as well, then we plan on cremating her."

"When?" Dean asked, but it didn't sound like a question, more a demand.

However, the coroner didn't notice the sternness in his voice. "Oh, after you leave, I suppose. Unless you want to oversee it, of course. I've finished all my paperwork. Did you want to see it? The paper work?"

"Yes, I think that'd be best." He replied.

As the coroner turned around again, her eyes flew open. _"Do something!" _she mouthed to him.

"_Just, _I don't know!" he started to panic. "_Wake up! Dramatically! Make him pass out!"_

She nodded, and as soon as the coroner returned with the paperwork, she yawned loudly and stretched her arms out into the air, as if to bring life back into them. She heard a loud yelp, and a delayed obviously faked one. "Rex," she yawned, coming up with the first dog name that popped into her mind, "I had the most messed up dream. I dreamed that I got shot and died, and-" she opened her eyes, and feigned confusion.

She moved to sit up, ignoring the multiple pin points of pain that interrupted in her chest as she looked around the room. Her eyes landed on the two men, who looked back at her, one with an expression of alarm, and the other, trying to look alarmed, but not really. "Where am I?!" she demanded. "Where's Rex?" she felt a coolness on her back, and stiffened. "Am I naked?! What kind of sick perverts are you?!" she wrapped the cloth closer to her chest.

The coroner passed out at that point, dropping heavily to the floor. One, or Jane, according to the fake name she had been given, looked down at her bullet riddled legs and discovered that each had been healed over, leaving no trace of a hole or a scar. The only indication that it had been there was a small rise of skin. "You'd think that I'd at least get _one _scar out of this…" she muttered, and Dean smiled.

Clutching the cloth tightly, she threw her legs over the side of the table. "Can you stand?" Dean asked.

"Er, I dunno'. But turn around for a minute, please." Dean did as she asked without question, and after fogging up any reflective surfaces that he could see her in, she folded the long cloth in half, and fashioned it into a type of toga, and tied it around the waist. "Alright, you can turn around now, if you want," she told him once it had been secured.

She slowly dropped to the floor, bracing herself against the table heavily in case she fell. She took a careful step, and released the table. She took another, and on that one she collapsed to the ground. _Guess I'm not as healed as I originally thought, _She thought.

Dean helped her up and half carried her to a gurney. "I guess not," He grabbed a clean lab coat and a blanket for her, which she wrapped and covered herself with, and pushed her out of the morgue and into the elevator down the hall.

As it went up, he said: "So I guess you're not dead," he grinned.

"Guess not," she smiled back.

"Alright, so here's the game plan. We need to look like we're in deep conversation or somebody's gunna' look at as weird, cool?"

"Cool." she replied.

The elevator binged, notifying the two occupants that they were now at ground level. Unsure of what to do next as Dean pushed her out, she brought her feet up onto the gurney and sat criss-cross apple-sauce facing Dean. She plastered a faked frown on her face and began a conversation.

"-and she was all like _nnnoooo, _like the total unfair idiot she is, and- oh! I shouldn't talk about my teachers that way! But you understand, Agent, that sometimes a theory is wrong no matter how many times they think they've proven it."

He nodded like he understood what was going on. They were approaching the doors. "What was this theory about?" he asked, trying to follow.

"Oh, that people can come back to life after an extended period of time, but that hardly matters!" she replied.

They reached the side entrance doors, and Dean stopped the gurney. "Oh, I think that's very important!" he helped her off and offered her an arm to hold while they tried to appear normal. They walked out the doors and across the hot asphalt, to a bright blue truck across the parking lot.

She suddenly realized something, and she gasped in happiness at the thought. "Oh my goodness!"

Dean looked at her strangely. "What? Did you forget something in the morgue?" he teased.

She let go of his arm and threw them into the air. "I'm outside!" she laughed loudly. "Whoa!" she yelped as she started to fall, hands splayed out in front of her.

Dean rolled his eyes at her childishness, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He caught her around the waist and lifted her into his arms. "Put me down!" she yelped.

"You can't even walk," he replied. "This is faster."

She groaned and suffered through 10 more seconds before Dean opened the shotgun door of the truck and gently sat her in the seat. She immediately curled into it, which was warm from sitting in the sun. As Dean closed the door and walked around the truck, she felt a presence behind her. She spun around, and to her relief, it was no demon, but Sam, who was laying on the entire back row, peacefully napping.

She turned around and cuddled back into the warm seat as Dean pulled open the door and slid into the driver's seat. He started up the truck and Sam slowly woke up to the growling up the truck as Dean pulled it out of the hospital's parking lot. He sat up, and when he noticed who was sitting in the passenger's seat his eyes opened wide and he slowly backed away.

"Are you alright?" she asked Sam, turning around again while she buckled her seat belt.

He looked at her for a moment before nodding. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Weirder things have definitely happened," he looked at her a moment longer before turning his head to Dean. "How did you guys escape?"

"Long story short, she wasn't dead, the coroner fainted, and I rolled her out on a gurney." He turned onto the highway.

"You missed the best part!" she exclaimed, and Sam turned to her. "Alright, so I woke up in this metal box, and when they pull me out Dean's all surprised and silently freaking out, which is surprising, because you guys die a lot more than you should, and he tells me to wake up dramatically, so I do, and the guy just passes out on the floor!"

"Then how did you get out?" he asked.

"Well, I can't walk, I think I might be paralyzed for now, so he sat me on a gurney and rolled me out while we talked about scientific theories and such."

Sam snorted, starting to smile. "_You _talked about scientific theories, Dean?"

Dean scowled in the mirror at Sam. "Yeah, Sam, I'm smarter than you give me credit for!"

It was her turn to snort. "I did the talking; you just did your best to even _try _to follow." Sam laughed at that and Dean's scowl deepened.

She shifted the blankets on her shoulders, and Sam noticed what she was wearing and slightly reddened, moving his eyes to her face. "Er, are you wearing anything beneath that?" he asked.

"You're both perverts." She muttered, holding the blankets closer to herself, and laying her head on the window sill.

"Well, you were just dead, in the morgue, and dead people down there tend not to wear anything!" Dean reasoned.

"And somebody has to do the undressing for the examination of the bodies, so looks like I've met multiple perverts in- how long?"

"Two days." Dean filled in.

"-in two days!" she finished. "Only two? Good."

"Good? How is being dead for two days _good?" _Dean asked her.

She lifted her head off the window and looked at him, while he kept his eyes on the road. "Better than forty years," she replied, silencing him for a moment.

Sam looked between the two of them, unsure what to do. "Yeah," Dean finally said. "Better than forty years."

The mood in the truck had changed, no longer as happy as it was before. Soon Dean put on some of his music, and she returned her head to the window, falling asleep after a few minutes. When she did, Dean turned the music down slightly.

There was silence in the truck, and Dean must have felt a need to fill it, because he did. "So what really happened on that compound, Sam? Because from what I can gather is that you used her as a human shield,"

"As soon as you tell me what happened in the TARDIS," he replied.

"I've already told you! We flew off, landed outside that hospital, and I went out, and they flew away without even saying goodbye! Your turn."

Sam sighed deeply. "Not now, Dean,"

Dean took one hand off the steering wheel and raised it in submission. "Fine! Fine. I'll just wake _her _up and I'm sure she'll tell me," he moved his hand to shake her awake.

"Dean!" Sam hissed, but when Dean didn't move his hand away, Sam let out an upset "Fine." He continued. "You want to know what really happened? The guards were firing at us, and instead of us ending up being riddled with bullet holes, she put her hand up and _the bullets froze in mid-air._its like they sank into jell-o or something. But she twisted her hand around, and the bullets did too, and when she dropped her hand, the bullets sped off and went into the guards who were _just doing their jobs._ They went down, and she went down with them. It's like she didn't even bother to protect herself." He finished off.

There was a pause, and then Dean asked: "How many guards were there?"

"Around two dozen. Maybe more."

Another pause. "I can't tell if she's awesome, or completely terrifying," Dean said honestly.

"Both. Definitely both."

After five minutes of no conversing, Dean started up again. "We should probably get her to another hospital, though. I don't know when she's gunna' be able to walk again. And it's an hour or two to the next one, so why don't you get some shut eye?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, get some sleep." Dean turned the music down to a murmur, and Sam fell asleep to the constant vibrations of the engine and road.

**Okay, so the last chapter didn't go to good, so that's why it took so long getting this up, because of lack of response, basically. But in case you were interested in the story or whatever, I put up a new chapter. I'm going to keep putting the up regardless, but it helps if I know what I'm doing right, or I'm doing wrong, so review, please.**


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